A Different Kind of Chosen
by RuthlessRoxy
Summary: Buffy is trying to balance college life with her Slayer responsibilities while still maintaining some sort of love life with an average Joe, but the world as she sees it ceases to exist once she's taken by the Initiative. Her name changes in a blur: Buffy, Hostile 17, and Eve, until she finally becomes his Dark Queen. She's a different Buffy; a different kind of Chosen One.
1. A Different Kind of HST

**A DIFFERENT KIND OF CHOSEN  
Chapter One**

**Author's Note:  
**My first fan fiction in a _very _long time and my first Buffy the Vampire Slayer fan fiction _ever_!This is a different kind of Spuffy story. We start off in Season 4, Episode 3 "Harsh Light of Day". Buffy is trying to balance college life with her Slayer responsibilities while still maintaining some sort of love life with an average Joe. She's already run into Harmony and Spike at a frat party the night before and slept with Parker, receiving an "I'll call you" excuse the next morning, but no calls have come.

**Warning:  
**I plan for this story to get very dark in parts. The Buffy as we know her will barely exist but still pop up in her mannerisms and thought processes, just a little bit more on the evil side. It will contain plenty of cursing, violence, and sex. Read at your own risk and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:  
**Sadly, I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any characters from the show. It, along with some quotes that may be used from future episodes belongs to Joss Whedon and company. Grrr! Argh!

* * *

**Chapter One  
A Different Kind of HST**

"Parker?" Buffy's voice came out whinier than she had wanted it to.

The boy in question startled slightly at the use of his name, but recognized the voice instantly. He sighed lightly, plastered on a fake smile, and stood up from his position of hovering over another girl.

"Buffy!" His tone was more enthusiastic than he actually felt. "How are you?"

She sighed, but hers was in relief. "Good. I'm good." There was a brief, awkward pause. _He's probably just busy with his mom's visit. Yeah, that's it. _"Just wondering why you haven't called."

A shadow of annoyance crossed his face before he turned quickly to the girl sitting behind him, who seemed to be mildly interested in the exchange. "Amanda, why don't you run to class before you're late? I'll definitely see you soon." A brief smile accompanied his words before disappearing when he turned back to Buffy.

"Look, that wasn't a promise." Her face dropped instantly, but he went on to explain himself. "We had fun, right? That was the whole point of that night. We have fun together, enjoy each other, and then move on."

As he explained, her face continued to drop, a frown casing her pouty lips. "Move on? But you said you would call me." Her voice was full of confusion. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She did it for a possible future. She shared her body with him, her soul. And he took it, greedily and, so she thought, lovingly.

"I was being nice." His features began to show his annoyance. "There's nothing between us except a good night. We can still be friends, right?"

"Friends?" The word rolled off her tongue thickly. 'Friends' was not what she had in mind at all. She was hopping for more along the lines of dating, possible love, and a future. Although, she wasn't sure why she bothered; being the Slayer kept those kinds of thoughts at bay most of the time.

"Yeah, friends. I'll call you sometime, okay?" He began walking away in the sunlit courtyard of the campus and all she could do was nod mutely.

Once she realized he wouldn't be turning around to make amends, she resigned herself to returning to her dorm and wallowing in her grief in solitude.

_Stupid Buffy. Stupid Buffy with her stupid ideas of sex and love and boys._

She huffed out one more sigh and spun on her heel in the direction of her dorms, only to have the sigh of abandonment replaced with a gasp of surprise.

Behind her stood a tall vampire with lean muscles, platinum blonde hair, and a smirk that could kill… in the sunlight.

"Spike?"

As the name left her lips, he replied with a cold "'Ello Slayer!" then his closed fist connected with her cheek.

The shock of seeing the vampire from her past in the daylight combined with the small heartbreak she just withstood caused the punch to take her off guard. Her limp body flew back, connecting hard with the pavement.

She pushed her bruised body off of the ground, listening to his taunting words. "What a fantastic day! Birds singin', squirrels makin' lots of rotten little squirrels, the sun beaming down in a nice non-fatal way. It's very exciting. I can't wait to see if I freckle."

"What? How…" Her face contorted in confusion, trying to find a reason for the sun not causing him to burst into dust, before realization dawned on her. "The gem," she whispered, referring to the Gem of Amara that his current whore, Harmony, had mentioned the night before after the party they crashed.

"Very good, Pet! The Gem of Amara. Official sponsor of my killing you." He praised her while advancing closer to her still frozen form. "Thought it a myth, myself, but once we started diggin' it just sort of fell in my lap." He altered the truth, not wanting the girl to know how he searched for weeks, causing a sink hole to cave in a street, and nearly missed it if it weren't for Harmony's insistent nagging while she wore the elusive piece of jewelry.

She changed her mask to one of steel determination and squared her shoulders. "I can't let you keep it. Besides, I don't think sun kissed is your color."

He chuckled darkly. "I didn't come here lookin' for permission, Slayer. I came lookin' for a good brawl, but I did hear some interestin' stuff." There was a brief pause as he stretched out his arms, enjoying the sun's rays, before looking back to her. "So, you let Parker take a poke, eh? Didn't seem like you knew each other that well. What exactly did it take to pry apart the Slayer's dimpled knees?"

She huffed in irritation this time. "You're a pig, Spike."

"Oink, oink, Goldilocks."

With a roll of her eyes she charged him and the two began their elusive dance. As one attacked the other dodged, causing the scene to look like a choreographed display to the passerby.

In the midst of dodging one of Spike's powerful kicks, she grabbed his foot and hoisted with all of her strength, sending the vampire to the ground on his back and knocking unneeded air from his lungs. Seeing opportunity present itself, she donned her stake from the back of her waist band and shoved it through his chest, piercing his heart with clinical precision.

There was a moment of bated breath as she waited for his undead body to turn to dust and drift into the calming breeze that surrounded them, but she was disappointed.

Spike sat up between her legs, his nose mere inches from hers, and pulled the stake out slowly before tossing it to the side. "Oh, do it again. It tickles." His breath fanned out over her cheek. He rose his hips up in a seductive manner, grazing himself against her inner thighs. "You know, in a good way."

A punch rained down on his face, bloodying his lip and knocking his head sideways. "Oh, Slayer, I like it rough." He licked his lips quickly before pushing her hard and freeing himself of her thigh's python like grip.

"Like I said, you're a pig, Spike." She wiped the small sheen of sweat that was starting to collect on her forehead. _Thank God I don't normally slay during the day. This heat would kill me before the baddies even got tired._

"You're words wound me." He clasped his hands together over his heart in a mocking gesture. "It's a good thing you're so witty, 'cause that stake aint doin' you much good now."

_Just get the ring off his finger and the sun will do the rest of the work._ She nodded at her inner monologue before charging.

Their dance began again; fists connecting, kicks flying, and both dodging expertly until Spike's hand was snatched in mid air as it flew pass her face. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist tightly and twisted it towards his body. The movements made the rest of him comply. He turned himself, trying to relieve the pressure on his appendage and found himself facing away from his opponent, his arm trapped between the two of them.

A guttural purr rose from his chest and he pushed his body against hers as much as possible, feeling her form meld to his back. "Like I said, I like it rough!"

Buffy shut her eyes tightly for a second and internally gagged. She didn't want him near her and she definitely didn't want him to know how much the fighting portion of her lifestyle turned her on. So, instead of continuing with their usual banter, she spread his fingers and ripped the ring off in one swift movement.

Spike instantly felt the effects of the mystical jewelry leave his body; his arm ached more than before and the sun began to cause his perfectly smooth skin to pop and sizzle. He quickly pushed against her, causing her to release her grip and dove towards the nearest manhole cover.

- • -

"Giles?" Buffy's voice echoed through the line, the cheap payphone giving it a static radio quality.

"Ah, yes, Buffy. I presume you were successful in retrieving the Gem of Amara from Spike?"

The blonde Slayer nodded, but once she realized that her action would go unseen, spoke the positive answer into the receiver. "Yup. Spike escaped, but he'll no longer be of the freckling kind." She then held the offending item, a simple ring, up to the sky; the bright sun glaring through the hoop at her, mocking exactly what she took away from her vampire nemesis.

"Good, good. Seeing as the ring is actually real and not a myth as presumed, it should be destroyed or kept in an extremely safe place." Once again she nodded, but offered no verbal response. Giles waited a beat, but continued once he realized the silence wouldn't be broken. "I assume you'll be patrolling tonight?"

She sighed heavily. _Yup. That's me! Miss I do nothing but slay. Most kids would love to have an excuse not to study for their big psych test tomorrow morning and that's all I want to do. If I fail this test, I'll never pass this class! _"Sure," was all she spoke aloud. After another beat she ended their conversation with a quick, "I'm going to find a place for this ring, it's getting dark and I want to start patrolling soon."

The former Watcher answered her with agreement, said his goodbyes, and hung up the phone. Once the payphone was back on the receiver, she turned and went straight back to her dorm. Now that Kathy, her demon ex-roommate, had been exposed and Willow moved in, she was more comfortable in her own room, so she slipped the Gem of Amara into her chest of weapons, pulled out a stake, and replaced everything.

- • -

Spike huffed angrily at his failed attempt of another slayer kill, the smoke from his prior frying flesh finally dispersing.

"Stupid Slayer!" he cursed loudly. The walls of the sewer he had previously escaped in echoing the taunt.

Why was she so hard to kill? But more so, why was he so infatuated with her? The way she moved, fought, spoke; everything about her intrigued him to the point of fury.

"I'm a vampire for Christ's sake! William the Bloody! Slayer of Slayers!" The more he spoke to himself the louder his voice rose, startling him when the walls echoed his titles back with such force.

He jerked his eyes skyward, seeing nothing but the concrete that held the earth up around him. But beyond that, in his mind's eye, he saw the blue sky holding the sun up high. He remembered the pleasant burn of the rays as it beat down on his pale skin, the warmth that soaked his bones.

"And tha' bitch stole it from me!" A heavy fist hit the wall suddenly, piercing the rock. When he pulled his hand back, a bit calmer than before, blood soaked his knuckles and the offending hole his punch had left.

An eerie calm replaced the torment in his chest as he began his journey to the surface, knowing instinctually that night had fallen and the stars had replaced the sun. His voice came out in a barely audible whisper, even to his own heightened hearing, "but she'll pay…"

- • -

Patrolling had been, to say the least, boring. Demonic activity seemed non-existent and vampires even more so. Buffy huffed with frustration. What a waste of time. She could have been studying, or, knowing Buffy, pretending to study while becoming distracted with something else.

As she spun around to make the trip home, she came face to face with a good old fashioned vampire; face transformed into its demon visage and eyes golden in the night.

"Oh, hi." Her chipper voice broke the still air as the hybrid demon smiled toothily at her.

"Hey, pretty girl. Where's your friends?"

"I actually think I'm lost." She put on a convincingly worried look as she shifted her eyes back and forth in the dark. "Think you can help me back to my dorm room?"

Spike, keeping his distance, watched the exchange of banter as the Slayer gradually moved closer to the fairly new vampire, knowing his demon brother stood no chance with the girl he faced.

Her opponent shook his head. "What's the hurry? We should grab a bite first." Before the sentence left his mouth his slightly bulky body lunged forwards.

Buffy's instincts kicked in as she dodged first before returning with her own attack, slamming a fist into the side of his face. The vampire stumbled back, but quickly resumed his assault, throwing punches and kicks like a master of the art.

Eventually, after dodging the multitude of jabs, his foot connected with her jaw and Spike watched with increasing interest as they both fell to the ground. Buffy jumped up instantly, but her attacker was still curled in on himself, clutching his skull and screaming in pain. "Damn-it, my head!"

The Slayer only hesitated a moment before shoving a stake through his heart; the strange occurrence leaving her so speechless she forgot to be punny during the act.

As the night drew silent again, her shoulders began to relax while Spike began contemplating saving his revenge for another night, but a small rustle was heard by both and their eyes snapped towards the west.

There was silence again, followed by boots meeting the earth. A team of over a dozen men surrounded the Slayer, circling her like he would his prey.

"Lay down your weapon!" A gruff, faintly familiar voice sounded out. It was a command, but seemed slightly pained.

Buffy looked at her stake once with confused eyes before she gently put it on the ground. As she rose, she began speaking in a sweet, innocent voice, like she had with her previous opponent. "Listen guys, it's just a stick. I wasn't doing anything. Promise." She rose her hand up in a Girl Scout manner, pledging the truth of her lie and smiled.

Before the demanding man could reply, another voice sounded from a distance. "We found another, Agent Finn!" Once the sentence was completed a bright light was in Spike's face, displaying him to Buffy and the troops that circled her.

Buffy's petit form peered over the large bodies in front of her, seeing the other in question. Spike, who was surrounded by at least half of the amount of commandos she was facing. Of course he would be here. Stalking her; probably looking for revenge.

She rolled her eyes at the exchange.

"He must be with the girl."

"Like bloody hell I am!" Spike's voice, outraged and filled with disgust, carried so loudly that the group further away heard it alongside the radioed version.

The man, who must have been Agent Finn, brought a radio to his lips and spoke. "Disarm him. The professor wants all HSTs brought in alive." Now that caught her attention.

"HST? Whoa, whoa. I don't know what you're talking about, but I am not an HST. Nope, not me. No HSTness going on here."

Apparently they didn't hear her because the group advanced as one.

She shifted from foot to foot, not wanting to fight humans, but seeing no other choice. Her eyes dashed forward, seeing Spike hurtling a man against a tree and hearing said man's spine snap on impact. "Spike!" The vampire turned towards her. What was she supposed to say? She could care less if he was injured or dusted, but she didn't want him fighting the soldiers, knowing he wouldn't hold back his strength. So she yelled the first thing that came to mind, "Run!"

Once the command left her lips and Spike took off at full speed, she was pushed to the ground by a large body. She took in a deep breath and shoved the man away, watching as her strength flung him five yards.

Buffy stood quickly, prepared to defend but not kill. "I said I am not some HST."

"Take her down!" Agent Finn yelled the command over her plea and watched half of his men attack.

She began to dodge the attacks with ease, pushing them out of the way two at a time while trying to clear a path to escape.

"Sir, this isn't working." One of the men panted while pulling himself up from the ground. "I've never seen anything so strong."

The commanding agent nodded quickly, speaking one final command, "Make it a quick tag n' bag, boys."

As Buffy processed his words, a sharp sting shot through her exposed leg that sent a hefty electrical charge up her body. She stiffened, but shook it off quickly with the adrenaline pumping through her blood. After pulling the initial device from its place she threw it expertly, watching with a small sense of sick satisfaction as it landed in Agent Finn's foot, piercing material, flesh, and bone and bolting him to the ground.

"I didn't want to hurt you, but you've left me no choice." She hunched down, spreading her legs wider and taking on a fighting stance, but before she could attack or flee another sting shot up her arm, followed by another down her spine, and another in her chest. The onslaught continued, causing waves of fire to sear through her insides. She clutched her stomach, taking in rasping breaths, but still refused to give in.

"More!" The now familiar voice commanded and that's exactly what she received. More stings, more pain, more fire until it turned to a searing numbness and her vision went black.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**So, there you have it. The scene is set, Buffy and Spike are still enemies (for the time being), she's heartbroken, a tad snarky, and was just captured by… dun, dun, dun! The Initiative! Let me know what you think; suggestions and comments are always welcomed. As I continue writing, I'm hoping to have a posting schedule ready soon.


	2. A Different Kind of Hostile 17

**A DIFFERENT KIND OF CHOSEN  
Chapter Two**

**Author's Note:  
**We started off in Season 4, Episode 3 "Harsh Light of Day". She's taken the Gem of Amara from Spike, but instead of sending it to LA with Oz, she stores it in her weapons chest. A chipped vampire attacked her and was thoroughly dusted while on Patrol right before commandos from the Initiative tasered her into unconsciousness.

**Warning:  
**I plan for this story to get very dark in parts. The Buffy as we know her will barely exist but still pop up in her mannerisms and thought processes, just a little bit more on the evil side. It will contain plenty of cursing, violence, and sex. Read at your own risk and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:  
**Sadly, I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any characters from the show. It, along with some quotes that may be used from future episodes belongs to Joss Whedon and company and I make know money from the writing of this story. Grrr! Argh!

* * *

**Chapter Two  
A Different Kind of Hostile 17**

A frustrated sigh left Giles' lips. The current Scoobies, consisting of Anya, Giles, Oz, Willow, and Xander, were huddled over the Watcher's coffee table, a large map of Sunnydale spread before them.

"Listen, G-Man. Maybe Spike came back after Buffy's phone call?" Xander's voice broke the unmanageable silence.

Anya nodded quickly beside her boyfriend, "I agree with Xander."

A look of horror crossed Willow's face as she snuggled closer to Oz, taking comfort in the way he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She pushed her face into his chest and began taking deep breaths to calm herself.

Giles watched the exchange and tried to put an end to those horrible thoughts. "If Spike was to have visited Buffy again and she was to have," a strangled choking sound left his throat before he continued hoarsely, "met her end, the underworld would have heard about it by now." He nodded his head, taking comfort from his own words. "With no Slayer on the Hellmouth, the town would be in an uproar with demon activity. I have to believe she's still alive. It's certainly not the first time she forgot to check in after a night of patrolling."

Xander thought for a quick moment before putting his last two cents into the conversation. "If the Buffster did end up fighting Spike again, maybe she's not dead. Maybe she's just hurt and holing up somewhere?"

Another wave of silence crashed over the group, the startling realization that their friend could be seriously injured out in the woods making them all feel nauseous.

Willow's face turned a new shade of green at the sickening thought, but she pulled away from Oz's chest. "I-If she's hurt, it's been over a day. We need to find her. Giles…"

Her eyes shifted to the man, his name coming out more like a plea than anything else. He knew she was right. Their window was rapidly closing and he was determined to find his Slayer if it were the last thing he did.

- • -

Buffy's eyes opened slowly, a hazy film clouding her vision. She began making an inventory of her senses and body parts. Her hearing seemed to be fine as she listened to the light hum of fluorescent lights and movement to her right. She flexed her muscles subtly, not wanting her kidnappers to know of her awakened state. Everything seemed to be in working order and intact, but there was a heavy feeling in her chest, like having something hold you down.

The one thing that truly startled her was her clothing, or lack thereof. She was bare, exposed for the world to see aside from a very stiff sheet that left very little to the imagination.

The film that obstructed her perfect vision began to lift slightly and she took in her surroundings. To the naked eye the room looked like any other hospital room, but even less personal if that was manageable. The first thing she noticed was the walls. Their stark white color made the lights above reflect and caused a blinding sensation like staring at the sun. There were stainless steel countertops on top of more stainless steel cabinets lining three of the four walls, making the entire room feel like a surgeon's heaven.

The sound of a metal tool being set down on top of the steel countertop had her eyes jerking to her right. There stood a figure, easily recognized as a woman by her slimmer frame, but with short dirty blonde hair. A surgeon's mask covered her facial features, but her voice sounded faintly familiar to Buffy's cloudy mind.

A small recorder was held up to the woman's covered lips. "Hostile 17 resumed consciousness at 0630, 32 hours after capture." So much for not giving away that she was finally awake. She stopped speaking and dropped the recorder to her side, quickly flashing a small light into Buffy's eyes.

The action made her head pound and she quickly closed her lids to keep the intrusion from happening again. As she slowly opened them back up, more afraid of what might happen when they were closed then another round of blind the Buffy, she watched as the flash light was placed down and the recorder brought back up.

"Showing signs of alertness and increasing brain activity."

Buffy tried to speak, growing increasingly agitated with herself when the action failed to happen. Her tongue was thick from sleep and, from what she guessed, drugs. The only noise she managed to produce sounded like a drunken, slurred version of 'what'. But a simple 'what' wasn't enough. She had questions; plenty of them.

Who was Hostile 17? _Not me. I'm not hostile. Well… not unless someone or something gets all hostiley first._

How did she get here? _Oh! That's right! Goons in green tasered me to death. Stupid goons. Stupid goons with tasers of doom. _She thought bitterly.

And where was here, exactly? _Obviously some mad scientist's lab of torture. Torture…_ The word, even only spoken in her head, made her queasy.

Seeing as she found herself answering her own questions, she decided to give up on making her voice work. Instead she wanted to save her strength to plan an escape. There was always a way, an opportunity; she just had to find it.

A quick prick in the crease of her elbow made her eyes widen followed by a slow burn up her arm. Her line of sight landed on the woman as the foggy cloud slowly crept back.

"Buffy Summers, Hostile 17." The woman seemed to be speaking to her directly this time, no recorder in site. "Right under my nose this whole time. Extraordinary. We'll be testing you, pushing you to your limits."

The voice took on an unusually excited tone, but it was for naught; Buffy felt her body become heavier, her vision clouding so rapidly that it was just easier to close her eyes.

The worse part of the entire thing? She accepted the changes in her body; welcomed the rest it would bring her from the bizarre Frankenstein movie she found herself in. The last thing that touched her consciousness was "I need to know what makes you tick," before darkness swallowed her.

- • -

This time, Buffy's eyes opened with a start. She instantly realized she was no longer weighted down and felt a small amount of hope bloom in her chest.

_If I can move, I can fight. And if I can fight, I can escape._

But her small hope was dashed quickly when she took in her new surroundings. The surgical room was replaced by nothingness. Four simple walls, of the same stark whiteness as before, surrounded her. This time, however, there were no stainless steel accessories; therefore she had no possible weapons.

The Slayer, known to her captors as Hostile 17, sighed heavily. As her eyes roamed the room she realized, much to her relief, that her nakedness was now covered by a gown seemingly made of the same stiff material of her previous sheet. The only downside was that it still offered little to the imagination.

She stood from her position on the floor, stretching and flexing muscles that felt like they hadn't been used in days. Her body seemed to be in working order and her strength felt top-notch. The new discoveries of her body pleased her, but caused her to wonder just how long she had been out of it.

After deciding not to dwell on lost time, she began circling the small room. Hands ran up and down the solid walls, looking for any seams or means of escape.

Just as she was finishing her rounds, coming to the end of the fourth wall with no difference on the surfaces, the voice from before penetrated the silence in the room.

"Hostile 17."

Her head jerked away from her task at hand, looking for the source, but came up short. Due to the enclosed area, the noise reverberated and seemed to come at her from all directions.

"As you know, my friends call me Buffy."

"Hostile 17." The voice repeated, ignoring her comment and causing her to roll her eyes. "This will be a test of your strength and skill."

The wall across from Buffy began to open. The entire wall shifted backwards slightly, causing the air in the room to suction towards the disturbance, before it slid to the right. A demon, fairly large compared to her, was pushed through, stumbling into the stark room.

"Sub-T 67119 demon-class, Polgara species."

Said demon jerked its bulky head around, pushing itself back up against the wall it was shoved out of.

"This is your objective. Kill or be killed."

Weather the Polgara demon understood her words were a mute point to Buffy once it lunged its scaly body in her direction.

She dodged around its frenzied attacks, feeling oddly constricted in the stiff gown. Despite her abnormal apparel, she managed to land a kick, shoving her foot solidly against the demon's bare chest.

The demon retaliated ten-fold, sending her cares of flashing the world her goods out the window. It reached its arm out to the side and flexed its hand while Buffy watched in slight horror as a skewer protruded from its wrist.

"So much for being a fair fight," she muttered.

As the skewered arm swung towards her head, she ducked underneath, reaching up in time to grab the extended piece. The sharpness of the edge bit into her palm, but she quickly brought it down over her knee, snapping it from its connection on the wrist.

The Polgara demon howled in pain, jerking its right arm back and cradling it to its chest. With a weapon now in hand, Buffy took to the offensive, smashing her closed fist into its face, pushing it back into the wall with a second swift kick to its chest, and then shoving the skewer through its belly.

Its cry bellowed, echoing through the room before it died out and the body hung loosely on the wall, only held in place by its own weapon.

Just as Buffy finished wiping the small sheen of sweat from her brow, the wall opened again with another demon was pushed through.

"Sub-T 67119 demon-class, Bohg'dar species" Its eyes locked onto Buffy instantly and she shivered. Its appearance reminded her of a dinosaur. Three large horns protruded from its head with folds of fat taking up every inch of its body. Despite its appearance, she could tell it would be strong and deadly if she took the large claw-like talons for fingers as any sort of clue.

The Bohg'dar demon attacked without any hesitation, swinging its meaty arms at her with no preamble. After realizing how much slower it moved, she began to dodge the attacks with ease, hoping to tire out the demon and make the kill much easier.

_The kill? Since when did I start seeing slaying as 'the kill'?_

Her brief musings were nearly her down fall as the demon landed a particularly painful blow to her ribs, ripping the thin material of her gown with ease. She felt the warmth of her blood trickling down her side until it reached the floor, but didn't have time to check the wound as it shoved her up against the wall beside her previous victim.

Horn head was readying to make a final blow to her chest. Adrenalin spiked her blood, eyes darted around the room frantically as she fell into fight or flight mode. Just as the Bohg'dar demon was about to slam its talons down, she jerked the skewer out of the body beside her, hearing in the back of her mind as the reptilian like body fell into the pool of its own purple toned blood. Her arm swung before her mind had time to register and she watched with rapt fascination as the skewer plunged into the fat folds of the demon's neck, exiting the other side just as quickly.

Its eyes opened widely, stunned at the move that was performed before it stumbled back, releasing Buffy from her pin against the wall. It choked once and then fell to its cushioned knees and toppled over.

This time she didn't hesitate, unsure of whether the 'test' was over or not. She quickly ripped the bottom portion of her gown, leaving her thigh exposed, and wrapped the stiff fabric around her injured hand. Not wanting to cause more injuries than necessary, she used her now bandaged hand to pull the razor sharp skewer from the Bohg'dar demon's neck, hoping the fabric would offer a small bit of protection to her already gouged palm.

Just as she feared, the wall was opened again, another resident of the Hellmouth being pushed forward.

This one was easily recognized due to the fact that it looked human at first. Buffy wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried that her next fight would be with a vampire. They were, after all, what she was used to. But with no wood around, killing it would be much more difficult.

"Sub-T 63115 hybrid-class, Vampire species." The vampire, who sickenly resembled Xander with his slightly broad shoulders and shaggy dark brown hair, snapped his eyes in the direction of Buffy before scanning the carnage around her. There were two demons already dead at her feet, her thin clothing was tattered down her side, hair was a disheveled mess, and she was bleeding.

"Slayer," he greeted her, knowing instinctively who the petit blonde was. He closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling the air and taking in the sweet smell of her blood that penetrated through the musky odors of her previous kills.

She smiled despite herself, "It's nice to see at least someone knows who I am in this hell hole."

The vampire chuckled lowly and nodded as he spread his legs equal width to his shoulders, taking on a fighting stance. His face morphed, covering his brow in ridges, turning his eyes a golden color, and extending his teeth to a point. "To the death then?"

Nodding, Buffy matched his position, pulling her arms closer to her body and readying her only weapon. "Seems to be the story of my life." And with that, he lunged.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket, wondering in the back of her mind why he was able to keep his clothes, and tossed him over her head. He went flying into the wall and landed with a sickening crunch on the floor.

She knew it wouldn't be enough to put him down and watched as he jumped up from his crumbled position, preparing for another attack. Not wanting to give him the chance, she turned the tables and began her torrent of fists and feet in his direction.

The fight continued back and forth and Buffy felt her body weakening. When was the last time she had anything to eat? Not being able to answer the question, she turned her fury of her captors onto her current opponent.

She keened him in the ribs and while he was doubled over, protecting the injured area, she punched him square in the nose. His head jerked back causing him to lose his balance and fall onto his back. The Polgara demon's unusual purple blood fanned out around him as she climbed up his form, wrapping his chest between her strong thighs.

The vampire, seeing his impending death, tried to free himself, but his arms were pinned to his sides by her bare legs. With no means of escape, he began to plead with her, having heard of her humanity and her willingness to help the weak.

"Listen, Slayer. We should be working together not against each other. It's the only way we'll get outta this place." His pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears as she brought her make-shift weapon to his throat. Her other hand grasped the end of the skewer and began to push the blade into his Adam's apple.

When his spine at the base of his skull made contact with the blade's edge her eyes flashed to his. What she saw there, true fear, startled her, but changed nothing. "Killed or be killed," she repeated. With a deep breath and a heavy thrust, the skewer pushed through bone and the body beneath her turned to dust.

Buffy sagged forward, knees covered in purple toned liquid and the previously dusted vampire's blood still coating her weapon and knuckles.

She began going over what had happened, thrilled she had survived, but sickened by herself and the means she had to use to do so. Her head snapped up to the offending door, waiting for another opponent to be pushed in and announced, but she was taken by surprise when the voice fell back through the intercom.

"Congratulations, Hostile 17." As Buffy was beginning to make a snide comment, vent like slits opened in the seamless ceiling and a thick green gas began to seep into the room.

Her initial reaction was to distance herself from it. She plastered her back against the opposite wall and threw her arm over her face, burrowing her nose in the crick of her elbow. "No!" she screamed into her arm as she turned around and began pounding against the wall with all her might.

Not a dent was made as she continued the beating, feeling more than seeing the toxic gas at her back. She felt her already bloody hand throb at the force, but refused to give in.

It was useless, of course. The gas swallowed her small form, filling all of her senses with its poisons before her entire world went dark again.

- • -

Buffy couldn't wake easily this time around. She felt the weight back in her chest and heard the clanging of metal tools hitting metal surfaces before she saw anything.

Recognizing the sterile smell of the room before she saw her surroundings, she was quickly thrown back into reality. _So… not some horrific nightmare. Just another day in the life of Buffy._

Her snide thoughts rang even truer through her mind as she slowly opened her eyes. The room was recognizable. It seemed to be the same one she was in the first time, complete with stainless steel countertops, but something was different; more equipment.

Her gaze shot down her body, taking a mental count of all of her fingers and toes, noting that she was once again bare, the thin sheet back in place. She fell across a large machine that resembled a portable x-ray system, but slimmer, over her right hand and arm.

The injuries she sustained in her prior battles seemed to have been fairly healed over, leaving a puckering pink scar across her palm. That, alone, told her she had been unconscious for at least two days.

The sound that previously woke her, that of metal meeting metal, chimed again and her eyes darted to her right. There stood her mad scientist, scalpel in one hand, recorder in the other.

"Hostile 17 has exhibited remarkable healing abilities. Injuries sustained from conflict 52 hours prior have fully healed, a small scar the length of the wound the only notion of its existence. The injury in question, a large, quarter-inch deep slash across the subject's right palm would have taken an average human months to heal from."

Buffy closed her hand and opened her mouth, preparing to rip the scientist a new one with the list of insults she had running through her head, but was stopped short; a searing pain shot up her arm, making her tense her muscles and squeeze her fisted hand tighter.

She glanced down, seeing the scalpel pressed into the flesh of her forearm, a small line of dark red following behind it.

Not wanting to give her kidnappers any sense of sick satisfaction, she gritted her teeth, taking solace in the fact that the wound wasn't as deep as many injuries she had sustained before.

The scientist watched in glee as the skin on Hostile 17's arm began to knit itself together. Buffy noticed the delight in her eyes, assuming she had a smile to accompany the expression underneath the surgeon's mask, and it sickened her.

"You're sick, you know that? Sick and mad and demented!"

Her insults were thoroughly ignored as the experiment continued. More cuts were added to her forearm beside the first incision, each one growing deeper and more painful.

Buffy continued to grit her teeth, refusing, yet again, to show any reaction towards the pain.

The testing slowed as the scientist took notes on her healing, saddened by the fact that the deeper the wound, the longer the process took. In fact, two of the deepest incisions had yet to heal fully. She decided, for the benefit of her research, she would stitch them close to accelerate the process.

While using her wrist to push the fallen stray hairs out of her face, she turned slightly, retrieving a curved needle and thread from one of the stainless drawers.

Buffy watched as she placed them on a tray beside her gurney and lifted a syringed needle from the same area. Frightened about what happened the last time she welcomed the blackness, she began to struggle. Her exertion was fruitless, despite her Slayer strength, and the needle was plunged into the crook of her elbow yet again.

The familiar weight on her senses began to take hold as her torturer exchanged the syringe out for the needle and thread. She turned her body back towards Buffy's arm and lifted her mask over her head, allowing it to rest in her styled hair.

A small gasp left Buffy's chapped lips, taking in her captor's face. "Pr-Professor Walsh?" She could feel her tongue thickening and struggled to push the name out of her mouth.

The scientist, who now had a name to her face, locked eyes with her subject before quickly returning to her task at hand. Without any anesthesia, knowing the drugs would be kicking in shortly, she swung the curved needle through injured flesh, pulling the string through and closing the wound one stitch at a time.

Buffy grimaced at the feel, but noticed with worry that it was starting to subside. The faded sense of paint and film that began to overtake her vision meant that the drugs she was being poisoned with were starting to take hold.

She settled her now clouding vision onto the Professor's face and mumbled, "There's always one teacher who is of the bad," before yet again succumbing to the blackness that awaited her.

* * *

**Author's Note:  
**So, we have the Scoobies worried to death about Buffy's disappearance, but still determined to find her. Meanwhile, Buffy is going through her own personal trials from hell, doing her best to survive and maintain who she is on the inside. But where's Spike? Leave a review and let me know what you think. As I've said before, suggestions and comments always welcomed. Don't be afraid about critique, either. All I ask is that the tone stays pleasant so I can learn from my mistakes.


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